Sidelines ✷ Pope Heyward.

001 / The Pogues.

     Outer Banks was nothing like the small town bordering Connecticut Quinzelle Reid once found herself fortunate enough to reside in. Not only for obvious climate-related reasons but also for reasons relating to the economy and struggling social bonds of the island. She'd noticed that unlike those in her hometown, the citizens of Outer Banks didn't seem to get along. They were driven apart by their financial differences, both literally and metaphorically separated by the cusp of poverty.

   The fortunate beings who were blessed enough to afford the greatest luxuries life had to offer were referred to as the Kooks. The Kooks took shelter on Figure eight, the lavish portion of the island where the grass was an uncanny shade of green and the sun seemed to burn a dozen shades brighter.

  In obnoxious yet typical rich-kid-fashion, the Kooks took to rubbing their classy lifestyles in the faces of the working class who were referred to as the Pouges.

The Pouges owned the run-down portion of the island. Instead of green grass and vibrant rays of solar illumination, they were lumped with deteriorating homes and constantly cloud-ridden skies. Like a burden, they carried their lack of riches alongside them, allowing it to define themselves and craft a rough sort of persona.

   One would think that a massive tragedy such as a Hurricane would work to bring the residents of the island together despite their differences. If things were plausible, money and reputation would mean nothing in the face of receding danger. The two opposing forces would join as one to restore their beloved home.

  This wasn't the case, though. It seemed as though the Hurricane somehow further wrecked the bond between the Kooks and Pouges, totally severing any possibilities of a friendship, or at least an alliance, between them.

  Quinn didn't understand why the two parties despised each other so severely. To her, their deeply rooted hatred made absolutely zero sense. In her hometown, the county she spent her early childhood years in, hatred was something foreign. Everyone knew everyone— and everyone loved everyone.

  Quinn yearned for the comfort of the small town and the love it was brimming with. Though, she couldn't think too hard about her past, or else she'd make herself sick with guilt and nostalgia.

  Her mind had begun to grow hazy regarding her tragic past. Her memories had begun to jumble together, blurring around the edges to create one massive blurb of girlhood.

  Quinn often wished her childhood didn't have to end so abruptly on account of a tragedy she hardly recalled. It altered her persona and life as she knew it. The sudden change between the friendly Connecticut town and the spiteful Outer Banks gave her whiplash. It was weird going from an abundance of love to a lack of it.

Quinn was neither a Pouge nor a Kook— she was stuck in the middle. Just balancing on the cusp between poverty and fortune. And because of this, she didn't seem to keep much company.

  Quinnzelle was odd in the eyes of her peers. She didn't speak much to anyone besides her aunt; the sweet English teacher who'd taken custody of her when she was twelve years old. Even then, she was reserved around the woman and quite timid when addressing certain topics. Not even the being closest to her was fully informed on who she truly was.

Quinn was a complete enigma to everyone. After she'd moved in with Annabelle Reid late one February evening for reasons unknown to all, the island was quick to discuss her amongst themselves. Unlike her aunt, she was quiet and guarded, keen on keeping to herself. It wasn't something she meant to do— but, it naturally occurred when they all looked down upon her, not stopping to think about what she could've been going through.